


don't speak ill of the living

by Myrime



Category: Iron Man (Comics), Iron Man (Movies), Marvel
Genre: Don't copy to another site, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Established Relationship, Family, Fluff, Friendship, Funeral, Grief/Mourning, Howard Stark's A+ Parenting, Love, M/M, Minor Character Death, Protective James "Rhodey" Rhodes, Tony Needs a Hug
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-11
Updated: 2019-09-11
Packaged: 2020-10-14 17:36:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,315
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20604677
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Myrime/pseuds/Myrime
Summary: "Boy," Howard calls over the cemetary, "did you really bring your college fling home?"Rhodey builds himself up, never letting go of Tony's hand. “No, sir,” he says, putting a slight emphasis on sir that could mean anything from a gentle warning that they are in public to an outright threat. “He brought his best friend to the funeral of his other best friend.”- Jarvis dies and leaves Tony devastated. Rhodey is there to remind him that he is not alone.





	don't speak ill of the living

**Author's Note:**

> For [Ironhusbands Week](https://ironhusbandsweek.tumblr.com/) Day 4: "I'll always protect you."  
Enjoy!

When Tony does not turn up to the party they promised to meet up at, Rhodey’s first reaction is annoyed fondness. The past weeks were crazy, stuffed to the brim with tests and experiments and some extracurricular projects that Tony was quiet about enough to tell Rhodey they were for Stark Industries.

Things are supposed to calm down now, and the party was a good starting point for that. Rhodey has not seen Tony drink anything alcoholic for over a week, which must be some kind of record.

Dodging dozens of other students, Rhodey makes his way through the house for one last search for Tony. It is not like he needs Tony there to have fun. They do things separately often enough. But if Tony is not here, he is in the lab, where he often forgets all about the time. If Rhodey just leaves him there, he will never hear the end of it.

He could call, although Tony never hears the phone ringing and would not pick up even if he did. He is like that when he is working. It is amusing, at least when Rhodey does not have to walk all over campus to get Tony because of it.

The truth is, he does not have as much fun without Tony. His friends call them sickeningly co-dependant, which he does not mind. He loves spending time with Tony, and they did not have too many chances for that over the past weeks, at least not if it did not involve their classwork. Rhodey wants Tony here, so he goes to find him.

He walks leisurely over to the labs. It does not matter, he thinks, if they do not go back to the party together afterwards. A quiet night together is just as enjoyable, if not more so.

The labs, when he gets there, are dark. No music is turned up loud enough to turn people deaf two floors up.

“Tony?” Rhodey calls nonetheless.

He walks further in and finds no sign of Tony anywhere. Nothing has even changed from the last time they were here together. That is when Rhodey knows something is wrong.

Without further ado, he hurries towards their dorm, wondering where Tony could have gone. It is possible that they missed each other somewhere on the way, that Tony arrived at the party after Rhodey has left. Somehow, Rhodey has a feeling that is not it.

Early into their acquaintance, before they were even friends, Rhodey learned to worry about Tony. No matter how well things seem to be going, there is always another layer, another issue.

Rhodey takes two steps at a time as he hurries up to their floor and then down the hall. The entire house appears deserted. Everybody is glad to have some time to breathe again.

Rushing into their room, Rhodey stops short in the doorway. He was right. Tony is here and something is wrong.

Tony sits on the ground in front of his bed, legs pulled up to his chest, staring at something only he can see. He does not look up when Rhodey comes in, does not even appear to notice. His face is slack, far from the ready mask he hides behind at any time. He looks ready to shatter at one wrong word.

“Tony,” Rhodey says, managing to sound much calmer than he feels. Everything that goes wrong with Tony automatically pushes him into a panic. It is a trained instinct because Tony does not do half-measures.

Slowly, Rhodey walks into the room and crouches down in front of Tony, far enough to not crowd him but close enough to reach out if Tony will allow it.

“What happened?” Rhodey asks and saves all the platitudes laying on his tongue for when he knows what is going on.

Tony winces but it happens slowly. Not like Rhodey’s sudden presence has startled him but like he is fighting to return to the presence. When he finally looks up, his eyes are red-rimmed, with an unhealthy sheen to them. 

He stares at Rhodey like he does not fully register his presence.

“Jarvis,” he then says, slowly, toneless. “He’s –” Tony’s eyes drop as he finishes with a mere whisper, “dead.”

Rhodey stiffens. Of all the problems that ran through his mind on his way over here, death was not one of them. He thought of something they could tackle, something he could make better.

“What?” he asks before he can stop himself. And then, even worse, “How?” 

He wants to reach out, to help keep Tony upright, but he stays carefully back, not sure how Tony would react to a sudden touch.

Staring at the ground in front of him, Tony says, “Cancer. It was in his lungs.” He tries a shrug but is too tense for it. “He told me over Christmas but he said it was under control. And now he’s – he –”

A sob tears itself from Tony’s throat and it might just be the most terrible sound Rhodey has ever heard. Worse, it causes Tony’s composure to crack completely. A well of tears is spilling from his eyes, and he does not reach up to wipe them away as if he does not even notice them.

Not saying anything, Rhodey sidles close and pulls Tony into his arms. The way Tony buries his face against Rhodey’s chest breaks his heart. When he feels the tremors running through Tony’s body, he holds on tighter.

“I’m sorry,” he says, because there is nothing else, nothing to take away the pain of losing someone one loves.

Rhodey knows that Jarvis means a lot to Tony, but he cannot possibly know _how_ much. That would have required them to talk about life at the mansion, about Howard, about how skittish Tony is around people when he is not putting on the full Stark heir act. For all that Rhodey is sure he is Tony’s best and possibly only friend, there is so much that he does not know. He has never insisted on finding out either, because he figured Tony would talk when he is ready, but now he wishes he would know more, if just to make Tony’s burden a little easier to bear.

“I don’t know what to do,” Tony mutters into the by now damp fabric of Rhodey’s shirt, several minutes later.

Helplessly, Rhodey says, “I’m here. Whatever you do, I’m here.”

It is not enough. He knows that before Tony shoots upright again, not quite letting go of Rhodey but bringing some distance between them. He knows it before he sees the expression on Tony’s face close off. He knows that before Tony says a single word.

Loving Tony has always been riddled with trials and errors. Rhodey has always seen that as a good thing because it meant they were one step up from the approachable, eager—to-please mask Tony likes to wear for other people. It also meant hurting each other occasionally. Rhodey likes to believe that is worth it since it allows him to see the real Tony underneath. The soft smiles and tireless genius, but also the nightmares and the flinching away. And now the grief.

“You don’t understand,” Tony says and looks like his tone is supposed to be sharp. It is still full of tears, however, sounding choked. “Jarvis is _everything_. Without him I wouldn’t be here.” He does not specify whether he means here as in MIT or here as in alive. From how little Rhodey thinks of Howard, it might be both. “He stood up to Howard, he made me laugh, he told me it doesn’t matter if my designs don’t work on the first try or if they’re even useless. He was always there.”

It looks like Tony has more to say, but his voice gives out. His lips keep moving for a moment, giving way to more heartbreak.

“I’m always going to protect you, Tones,” Rhodey says. He does not know where the words are coming from, but he means them with every fibre of his being.

Tony looks at him, glassy-eyed and uncomprehending. “What?”

There is no going back now, even if Rhodey wanted to. 

“I can’t replace Jarvis. I can’t make it stop hurting,” he says and hates it, hates that he cannot lessen Tony’s pain. “But I can take over his job of protecting you.”

They do not talk after that. Tony sinks back into Rhodey’s arms, allowing himself to be had. That, he supposes, is answer enough, and Rhodey is glad for it. He is not sure how to keep his promise for Tony is a wildcard, tripping over everyday things while remaining unmoved by the greater despairs of life. Sometimes it seems like Tony thinks everything is fixable except for himself.

It does not matter what is coming for them. Rhodey might have said the words only now, but he has been determined to keep Tony safe for much longer. 

* * *

The funeral is a small affair. Howard Stark came but managed to leave the media circus always following him behind. So it is just a few friends, and no family but Tony. Howard holds a speech, but Tony does not. He explained that his friendship with Jarvis is not something that should be dissected by the nameless onlookers, and he did not want his experiences to be compared to Howard’s. He could not have been entirely truthful either because any of the guests could have blabbed to the press about the not so harmonious life in the Stark mansion.

Rhodey and Tony are at the very front but opposite from Howard. That leaves them plenty of opportunity to glare at each other, but at least it makes conversation impossible. It is grating on Tony nonetheless. When Rhodey notices Tony’s hands tensed up into fists, he reaches out and takes one of them into his, coaxing the fingers loose. It might be his imagination, but Tony relaxes a bit after that.

That is, of course, only until Howard stalks towards them the moment the ceremony is over.

Rhodey loosens his hold on Tony’s hand a bit without letting go. It is a silent offer in case Tony thinks it will do more damage if they are openly holding hands in front of his father. He is glad, however, when Tony keeps clinging to him, giving no sign of wanting to withdraw.

“Boy,” Howard calls when he is still several feet away. The derision in his tone has Rhodey’s dislike rising immensely. “Did you really bring your college fling home?”

This is it, Rhodey thinks, the time to stand tall and deliver on his promise to protect Tony. He wishes his first adversary would have been some jerk on campus and not Howard Stark himself, but he is glad to step up nonetheless. Tony has had to deal with this for far too long. 

“No, sir,” Rhodey says, putting a slight emphasis on _sir_ that could mean anything from a gentle warning that they are in public to an outright threat. “He brought his best friend to the funeral of his other best friend.”

Howard builds himself up. He is not tall, not compared to Rhodey. Next to him, Tony shrinks automatically, clearly wishing to hide.

“You should take care with how you speak to me,” Howard barks, with no amount of subtlety.

“Oh, I am,” Rhodey answers with a smile that does not show teeth but is sharp nonetheless. “Someone’s always listening, right?”

Red creeps up Howard’s neck as his face pinches with anger. Inwardly, Rhodey curses himself for causing a scene when all he wanted to do was give Tony a break.

That is, thankfully, when they are called to go outside to lower the coffin into the grave. They stare at each other a moment longer, both promising that this is not over.

If possible, Tony gets even tenser when they stand around Jarvis’ last resting place, even more ready to disappear somewhere his pain cannot touch him. Rhodey stands strong at his side and never lets go of his hand, not even when it is Tony’s turn to cover the coffin with soil. Tony’s grip is even painful at times, but Rhodey is just glad he can offer some comfort at all.

Afterwards, people linger, talking to each other, while Tony stands over the grave, looking down with so much sorrow on his face that it makes Rhodey’s chest constrict.

Howard’s booming voice cuts through the serenity of the cemetery as he makes conversation with the other funeral guests. That is enough to rouse Tony from his stupor.

He looks up balefully, appearing ready to throw himself into a fight.

“I don’t mean to be disrespectful,” Rhodey speaks up, deceptively light, “but it’s a good thing this is not an event for smiling. I’m not sure I could do that around him.”

It is meant as a distraction, and it works somewhat at least. Tony does not stop glaring at his father, but he appears more present again, as if he remembers where he is and that Rhodey is at his side.

“What is he even doing here?” Tony growls.

He does not seem to be looking for an answer, but Rhodey is glad enough to hear Tony’s voice to accept even this less than ideal topic.

“You told me they were friends,” he offers, aiming for nonchalance.

Tony aims a glance at him that appears to question Rhodey’s sanity. “Ages ago,” he replies, turning his attention back on Howard. “He certainly did not act like a friend over the past years. Or ever, since I was born.”

Tugging slightly at Tony’s hand, Rhodey shifts them so that Howard is not in Tony’s direct line of sight anymore. He is relieved when Tony follows without putting up a fight. This day is supposed to be about Jarvis, not about nursing grudges.

“If Jarvis stood up to Howard, he might have only been able to because they were friends,” Rhodey argues. He cannot imagine the older Stark would have kept someone in his employ who went up against him on a regular basis just to protect the son Howard does not seem to like very much either. “Your old man certainly looks like he would love to gut me right now and I didn’t even say what I really wanted to.”

The ghost of a smile lifts Tony’s lips for a mere second. “You interrupted his favourite sport of yelling at me.”

“It’s not right.” Rhodey should have let it go. He should have accepted Tony’s willingness to talk and pushed the conversation to safer topics. He cannot help the automatic distrust. They might have never talked much about Howard, but he has always hung like a shadow over Tony’s shoulder.

Right in front of him, Tony withdraws further into himself. “It’s what it is.”

Scrambling to return to a lighter tone, Rhodey says, “Never thought I’d hear you say that, Mr. it’s-only-impossible-because-I-haven’t-done-it-yet.”

It hurts to hear Tony like that, because for all of his issues and insecurities, he _is_ mostly convinced that there is a way for everything. Just not where he, personally, is involved.

“That’s Jarvis’ doing too,” Tony answers quietly, eyes resting on the fresh grave. “He always told me that if something didn’t work, it just wasn’t yet time for it.”

Rhodey moves a little closer to Tony so that their shoulders touch. Ever since they left Boston, Tony has looked cold, washed out, like all the life is draining out of him.

“I wish I could have met him,” Rhodey says, and he really does.

As far as family goes, Jarvis was Tony’s more than his parents were, responsible for shaping him into the person he is now. The Stark act might be Howard’s doing, but the sweet, kind-hearted Tony underneath could only survive because Jarvis cared for him.

Looking up, Tony’s expression is so fragile, Rhodey almost expects him to burst into tears again. “He would have liked you.”

Rhodey nods, squeezing Tony’s hand. “I hope so. We both love you, after all.”

He is rewarded with another small smile that lightens up this drab day immensely. Rhodey knows it for the fleeting thing it is, so he savours it while it lasts.

“You make that sound like a defect,” Tony jokes, although there is no hiding the serious edge underneath, always doubting everything good that is happening to him.

That just makes Rhodey want to intercept Howard Stark before he leaves for a little chat, despite having promised to be civil.

“It’s a bit of work,” Rhodey admits lightly. Before Tony can get the wrong ideas, he adds, “But it’s the most rewarding thing I’ve ever done.”

Tony sighs but seems to stand a little straighter again, not as ready to collapse. “You’re a sap.”

Very much aware of that, Rhodey shrugs. “Well, you make it easy.”

The peace sadly does not last forever. While Tony remains in front of the grave, trying to say goodbye to his oldest friend and almost-father, the rest of the funeral guests trickle out of the cemetery. Everyone but Howard Stark. After having made small talk with everyone, he lingers. He might want to have some minutes alone with his deceased friend too, but once he turns, his eyes fall immediately on Tony, narrowed and still somewhat angry.

“Your father is coming towards us,” Rhodey warns even before Howard has taken the first step to give Tony ample time to collect himself. They have both expected another confrontation, but they had hoped that Howard would show enough common courtesy to not do so over Jarvis’ grave.

Tony straightens abruptly, the dismay on his face quickly replaced by something resigned. “Let’s go then,” he says, turning his back on the new headstone as if he had not just looked like he would never be able to leave it behind.

This strength is something to be admired. People usually think that the Starks, with all their money and their genius, have the whole world bowing to them with nary a problem slowing them down. That is a lie. For all that Tony is practiced in keeping up his smirk and doing what he set out to do, there is nothing that he cannot turn into an obstacle, nothing that cannot raise a mountain of self-doubt. And yet, nobody who does not look beneath the surface would ever know.

To himself, Rhodey can admit that he thinks it is also immensely sad. All these scars hidden beneath that glamour and shiny confidence. All these steps Tony takes despite expecting the ground to crumble away beneath him.

“Are you ready?” Rhodey asks, because he has once sworn himself he would show Tony every kindness. “I can stall him if you need some more time.”

He does not yet know how to do that without making a scene, without making even more of an enemy of one of the most powerful men in the country. Yet, it does not matter. He would do anything to make life a little bit easier for Tony.

“You shouldn’t make him angry,” Tony cautions but looks grateful for Rhodey’s offer.

With a smile for how brazen he has become, Rhodey shrugs. “I’m not afraid of him.”

That is not the complete truth. Of course he is afraid of Howard Stark. Not of his money or his company or how he could ruin Rhodey’s career in the Air Force with just a few words into the right ears. He is afraid of how much more damage that man can deal his own son. With his negligence, his derision, this shaking anger at everything and everyone in the world. 

“Perhaps you should be,” Tony says, glancing in his father’s direction with a blank face.

He is about to turn away when Rhodey steps in front of him, causing him to look up.

“Tones, I don’t care,” Rhodey intones firmly, trying to convey how much he means these words. “I’m here for you and only for you. If you need more time to say goodbye to your friend, I’ll get you that time.”

Tony leans close, not quite like he wants to be hugged, but like he is drawn in by Rhodey’s warmth. “Thank you, Rhodey,” he says, and now his smile is brighter.

“Any time,” Rhodey promises, smiling back.

With a nod, Tony takes a step back and throws a last longing glance at the Jarvis’ name on the headstone.

“I think I’m done here. That’s not –” Tony shrugs with a sheepish expression. “Jarvis is not here. He was always so alive, he wouldn’t want me to think of him dead in that grave.”

They turn towards the exit, which will lead them right past Howard who is still coming towards them. Rhodey does not offer to take another way when he sees the determination in Tony’s shoulder. They cannot run from all their battles.

“Where do you think you’re going?” Howard questions when they do not slow down, intent on just passing him by.

Rhodey bites his tongue to not snap anything back. He will step in if he feels he is needed, but this is still Tony’s father, and Tony knows how to handle him, knows how to not make everything worse.

“Home,” Tony answers simply and steps a bit closer to Rhodey as if declaring his allegiance.

In response, Howard’s eyes narrow and Rhodey has to suppress a victorious grin.

“Your mother is waiting for you at the mansion,” Howard says, causing Tony to stiffen further.

He takes a deep breath, and Rhodey wonders how he manages to keep his expression so blank.

“If she wanted to see me,” Tony says with definite accusation in his tone, “she should have come here.”

Tony’s mother has featured more often in the few stories he has told of home, but even in those she was mostly absent, withdrawn, less a mother than just another inhabitant of a house too big to allow anyone growing up in it to not be lonely.

“Watch your tone, boy.” Eyes narrowed and red creeping up into his face, Howard Stark looks like he is suited for nothing but fury. It is hard to believe he sired someone so kind-hearted. “She’s not well.”

“Come to think of it, I’m not either,” Tony replies sharply in that tone he usually reserves for professors too stubborn to admit Tony’s way of solving a problem might be better than theirs. “And we’ve got classes in the morning.”

They do not, but Rhodey nods nonetheless. If home is what Tony needs, they will go there, and hide away from everything until Tony feels better. 

“You don’t care about your classes,” Howard snaps, making Rhodey wonder whether he knows his son at all.

Straightening, Tony says, “You’re wrong.”

With that, he starts walking again, clinging to Rhodey’s hand as if he is afraid he will not follow.

“Anthony,” Howard barks and Tony winces slightly but does not stop.

“Goodbye, Dad,” he throws over his shoulder.

Rhodey takes care to walk a bit behind Tony, guarding his back. It might be a ridiculous thought that Howard would attack them, but he nonetheless makes a show of it, making a statement.

They are silent until they reach their car and close the doors behind them. Sadly, Howard does not stand on the cemetery anymore, looking after them, seething, but has already gone over to his own car too, barking at his driver.

They wait until he is gone, leaving the engine off. Tony looks a little lost but not as fragile anymore. 

“Are you all right?” Rhodey asks, even though he knows it is a stupid question. He needs to say something, though, needs to pull Tony out of his thoughts before they have him spiralling down a road he cannot get out of alone anymore.

“No,” Tony replies with a sad smile. “But I think I will be.”

Rhodey will give his best to make it so, no matter what obstacles are thrown in their way. When they first met, he never would have thought that Tony would quickly become one of the most important people in his life. Looking at him now, he would not have it any other way. Life without Tony would not only be boring but much less bright

“You really want to go back to Boston today?” Rhodey asks.

It might be good for Tony to be somewhere else, somewhere new where nothing can remind him of Jarvis, so he can get some sleep tonight.

Tony’s features darken immediately. “Well, I’m not going to the mansion.”

Shaking his head immediately, Rhodey amends his question. “I thought we could find a motel for the night.”

At any other time, the way Tony’s face scrunches up would be amusing. He might not be as much of a snob as Rhodey had initially feared, but there are still things that show exactly how differently they grew up.

“A _motel_?”

Grinning, Rhodey nods with more enthusiasm than the situation warrants. “Yes, something small and dingy with a too narrow bed, so I can hold you all night and you won’t have an excuse to withdraw into yourself.”

It is a good plan. Tony is good at getting lost in his own head. At the same time, he is still so touch-starved, so hungry for any kind of positive attention, that Rhodey’s arms might just be the safest place for him tonight.

Tony must have come to the same realization because his face becomes incredibly soft.

“Thank you, Rhodey,” he says and leans over to rest against Rhodey.

“Always, Tones,” Rhodey promises and shifts to put his arm around Tony. “I mean it.”

It is not very comfortable, but they stay like this for a long while nonetheless. They are together and nothing else matters for the moment.

**Author's Note:**

> I've got a thing for Rhodey standing up to Howard or Obie or any other idiot trying to harm Tony. 
> 
> Thank you for reading!


End file.
